


a change of pace

by VentusBDaPlayer



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Lancelot being a disaster gay, M/M, One Shot, Pseudo Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-14 03:23:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VentusBDaPlayer/pseuds/VentusBDaPlayer
Summary: he wasn’t sure when they had gotten comfortable enough to enter a restaurant together.





	1. lancelot's feelings

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing and publishing a fanfiction, i hope you're able to enjoy it!
> 
> i tried to convey a little twist to the common percilan dynamic; chapter 1 will feature lancelot's perspective and chapter 2 features percival's.

He wasn’t sure when they had gotten comfortable enough to enter a restaurant together, nor when they had even started considering each other friends. He wasn’t sure when Percival became the type to offer to pay the bills, nor when he had even started treating Lancelot so kindly. What was sure, however, was that the two rivals were now seated opposite of each other in a restaurant downtown of the Capital, one which Lancelot had never even dared to enter before due to its intimidating and sophisticated aura—but it wasn’t like he ever had a need to dine there, with it being so far away from the castle.

His blue eyes eventually peeked out of menu not because he had made his decision, but to simply observe his rival who appeared to be unfazed by this entire charade—perhaps that only made sense given that it was him who had invited him to have a talk over dinner in the first place, but Percival had always seemed so calm, and he wondered if there were ever any issues that had set him down.

The composure those ruby eyes had were always something Lancelot had set his eyes of admiration on. Not so much as on Siegfried, that he could admit, but between the two of them back in the days of being fellow Vice-Captains of the Order of the Black Dragons, Percival had been the one who seemed so calm and mature all the time, seemingly always aware of what he had to do, seemingly always catching onto everyone’s problems. Even from the day he had lost him as his equal and rival, he could never forget the flames he had carried—the flames that were always so beautiful and gentle, one his frost could never achieve and yet desperately wanted to grasp and hold to itself.

“What are you doing?”

Lancelot immediately catches onto the movements of his hands, his fingers tapping on the menu he was holding, as if playing its own melody. Embarrassed that he had not caught onto the habit earlier, he quickly placed the menu back down on the table, shot his eyes across the restaurant to ensure no one had seen him, the Captain of the Order, playing around, and finally he began to laugh awkwardly as he looks back to the redhead–

“Oops.”

Percival, to say the least, wasn’t amused. A presumably judgemental sigh escapes his lips, leading Lancelot to hang his head in shame. This wasn’t how he had wanted his dinner to go today, but he had done it and embarrassed himself in front of his rival. Percival doesn’t push the topic, however, whether or not he had noticed his worries remained a mystery; the Captain could only simply assume that he did, like he always had, and for a brief moment his lips crack into a gentle smile. This time he offers a proper apology, he had allowed his thoughts to catch him, and he knows it wasn’t exactly professional, so…

“We aren’t in a professional meeting, so you can drop your forced professionalism.”

His heart skips a beat.

“Does that mean you had never meant for this to be an important meeting?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, you’ve just never seemed to be the type of person who would invite someone to dinner just to have fun.”

Lancelot knows his gaze was leaving his friend’s. Normally he would have simply laughed it off, teasing the redhead for suddenly turning into such a softie, but Percival’s every word was now affecting him—Maybe because he knew the weight of them. It was only when the other man shuts his menu that he looks back, and he swore that in that moment he could see a weak smile forming on his face.

“That much I’m aware of; I simply figured a quick change of pace may benefit my understanding of people.”

“And so you’ve made me the subject of your curiosity?”

“With your vast switch in personality between work and fun, there was no other perfect candidate for this.”

And finally Lancelot laughs. Oh, how usual yet unusual this was. Percival had always been an extravagant individual, even if it had felt so much more different now that he’s the direct subject of it. He couldn’t complain, however, because despite all of Percival’s seemingly sharp words, he was more than aware that it was a compliment from him. Such high praise from him had always made his heart sing, after all, for how genuine every one bit of it was.

“I’ll take the opportunity, then. Thank you.”

…

The meal passes without any further event, with the both of them frequently revisiting their past, the little events and mistakes they had experienced as amateur knights. Warm laughs were exchanged, little arguments were carried, jabs of criticism flew from one end and back, and before they knew it the night sky had fallen upon them outside. Frankly, Lancelot was incredibly touched by the quality of the food. The restaurant most certainly lived up to its vibe, leaving the black haired man in search for a moment to regain his grip on reality.

On the contrary, his rival was looking out of the restaurant’s windows, his fingers swinging the handle of his wine glass. It had looked as if he was confirming with his own eyes that it had been nighttime as well, which Lancelot wanted to take it as good news.

Surprisingly, Percival had been the first to speak.

And it was something he had never expected to hear him say towards him, not even in a million light years.

“I’ve had a wonderful time with you.”

And it was something he couldn’t exactly deny agreeing to, either. Spending time with Percival without work putting the either one of them down had been a completely different experience altogether. They were able to share their hearts, much more openly than ever before, portraying so many different sides that Lancelot had never seen before, satisfying his curiosities and even for a moment he had cursed for time to stop moving.

So he nods in total agreement, “it would be nice if we followed this pace in the future.”

“I have confidence that we will be.”

The smile on the redhead’s face as he states his faith was almost like the flames he carried in his heart—warm and caring it was, filled with the genuinity he had rarely ever shown. Lancelot’s eyes could only widen at the sight, his heart beginning to pick up speed as he comes to realise what all his admiration—all his feelings—throughout the years meant. That even if everything else about Percival had still felt like a mystery to him, there was one thing he was certain of now.

“I think… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

The words, however, do not leave the wide smile on Lancelot’s mouth.


	2. percival's heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while working for guild wars, i decided to write up percival's edition of this one-shot.
> 
> likewise, enjoy!

He swore he was only doing this because it was going to be beneficial for him.

There was no way he had bought into the words of the mongrel, whom he had argued with the previous day before it escalated into a little, as much as he hated to admit it, pep talk.

 _“C’mon, Percy! It wouldn’t hurt to have a little meal with your friends sometime soon. Like, you know, with your old friends from the Order? Though I guess most of them wouldn’t be here anymore, huh…”_ Percival could recall the pitiful expression Vane had made as he rambles on; he had figured that in a way he was apologising, but he looked so much like a kicked puppy he almost has to hold back a laugh- Thankfully he doesn’t, but what follows gave him a little shock.

_“I know! How about Lancey? You two were working together before as Siegfried’s right-hand men, right? Or is it Siegfried’s left-and-right-hand men? Well, whatever! It’ll really help with Lancey’s motivation, since you know, he’s been feeling kinda stressed from all the work lately… So a little surprise from you would be sure to help him out!”_

Percival sighs as he flips open his menu, because as per usual it didn’t seem like anything had been affecting Lancelot’s mood; he had been chattering the way he always does, occasionally unnecessarily poking into his business. In fact, he seemed to be so himself that Percival caught the renowned Captain busy tapping away at his menu—He didn’t think Vane of all people would be lying, though, and thus he concludes that there was something beneath all that life in his personality.

Lancelot was once known as his equal in the Order of the Black Dragons, with them being the unusual duo of Vice-Captains. The two being even in most of their skills was how the rumours went, although Percival had never agreed to the broad claim—Lancelot was far much more superior than him in countless of aspects, and it would be a lie if Percival were to say it hadn’t made him feel absolutely pathetic at times. Despite having commoner’s blood, the man currently opposite of him had abilities that far surpassed his. It wasn't just in his adaptability with using twin blades, but also his people skills—negotiating, leading, charisma, you name it, and he has it. Every one of those traits led Percival to believe that the the other man was much more suitable to be the next Captain, even before the long series of unfortunate events that had befallen the kingdom.

That being said, he still was a fool, through and through. On the fateful day where they clashed with their ideals, Lancelot had given him such a frank answer to the questions he had previously pondered for days, the questions which drove his paranoia towards the wall. After all, if the Captain you put so much trust in had suddenly betrayed the country, there was no way you were going to remain sane. This only, no, this went doubly the case for Lancelot, who had always followed former Captain Siegfried like a newborn puppy. But instead of having things played out the way he expected it to, Lancelot told him that a knight merely serves to hold the country upright, for that was the oath they swore to—and that was his sole duty. The response was the only thing Percival had required to know to answer his own question—he was not, and never was, suitable to be a knight. There was no helping a smile on his lips as he remembers the day now, having made up with their little conflict he can only think about how the reply he had provided was so… Lancelot-like. Perhaps he had been the fool all along, for not having expected it in the first place.

His eyes gleam with subtle envy even as his thoughts begin to drown; they were like polar opposites, beyond just their powers in frost and flames into their personalities and lifestyles. It certainly made Lancelot one of the most difficult people for him to understand, on top of his typical, yet cunning habit to hide his personal issues—But that wasn't going to stop Percival from attempting, he was just stubborn that way. Explaining his purpose for inviting Lancelot seemed to have calmed his nerves, finally allowing them to settle on their meals.

_…_

“Say, Percival, remember the time when we fought for Siegfried's spare time at a party?”

“Which time are you talking about? I remember several.”

“Ah… I was talking about the one where we ended up in a fistfight. Hehe, the face you made then was pretty funny!”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, I actually thought it was kinda cute… I mean it, it's not everyday I see such a soft side to you, so the fact that we're now casually having dinner together made me think about it.”

Lancelot's following giggle made his chest flare up. Was it frustration?

“I'll have you know I do not have a ‘soft’ side.”

“See, if you keep holing yourself up and refuse to open up, you'll never realise there are different sides to you!”

“I don't wish to hear that from _you_ , of all people.”

Then he pouts, or was it a fume? Percival blinks in turn, because it takes a second for him to realise that he had not been feeling irritation, but-

He may be getting too attached to the person who was supposed to be his rival.

Having royal heritage, Percival had always been one to abide by the House of Wales’ standards; doubly so because he was the youngest sibling. There had been more than enough expectations and spoils that went to his heart, the standard to always be the well-behaved and beloved child. Of course, it came with a consequence, one that had restricted him within his own circle and never allowed him to act on his own liberty. After he had lost his mother, his father had disappeared into research and his eldest brother into training to become the next King. It wasn’t long after that his second brother left the House, too, leaving the youngest child behind… all alone. For many years he had not been able to seek out someone to talk to—the servants in the house had never been enough for him, because he knew from deep in that they were merely doing their job.

Entering the Order of the Black Dragons, however, delivered a new change to him; there were countless of fellow knights just like him, and together they were given their long sought freedom, for the first time in their lives, to make friends outside of their House. In Percival’s case, it didn’t take a long time for him to begin warming up to one of his comrades—that was Lancelot. He was of a background completely opposite of his, and there were countless of topics they had to argue on. It was a relief to him, however, because despite never understanding what the other knight was thinking about, they were evenly matched on the battlefield. He knew perfectly well that the feeling could go both ways—he rarely voices his own feelings himself, and so for the two rivals perhaps using the sword was the only way for them to express themselves to each other.

He freezes.

_“C’mon, Percy! It won’t hurt to have a little meal with your friends sometime soon. How about Lancey?”_

_“It’ll really help with Lancey’s motivation, since you know, he’s been feeling kinda stressed from all the work lately… So a little surprise from you would be sure to help him out!”_

Could this possibly be what Vane had meant...?

“Hey… Earth to Percival! Are you listening?”

Abruptly, he senses a cold metal lightly knocking on his forehead, making him cut his monologuing short to bring his attention back to the blue-eyed man- his most endeared rival- before him. The said knight then withdraws his spoon and leans back to his seat, smiling too brightly as he sighs a breath of relief. Apparently the redhead had been in a daze, and hadn’t been responding to his streams of rambling… Ah, Lancelot shakes his hand, adding that it wasn’t anything important, he was just talking about the new recruits, so it was fine, really… Percival grins at the sudden bashfulness in the other man in return, pretending to not listen to his rising heartbeat as he deflects the topic at hand, chiding Lancelot for paying attention to someone else instead of his own meal.

Of course—he had been a fool. They were rivals no more, but two friends who have been through the thick and thin together. Speaking by their swords was no longer an accessible option for conversation—with their new lives there wouldn’t be any time for what the world would consider a measly activity. Vane was right; it was the little things like having a meal together that were incredibly important, with it being the key to creating another path in human relationships. And, not to mention… there were some feelings within Percival’s heart that could never be expressed otherwise without words.

That would have to wait for a better time, however; this pacing was fine as it was now.


End file.
